


The Office Party From Hell (Literally)

by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits), HolyCatsAndRabbits



Series: Dannye's Zine Fics [13]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fireworks, M/M, New Year's Eve Party, Old Married Couple Bickering, Play Dumb, To the World Zine, in both the literal and romantic sense, mixers - Freeform, not that dumb!, office parties, the opposite of fake dating, which is pretending you are not a couple, zine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/Dannye%20Chase, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/HolyCatsAndRabbits
Summary: Crowley had no great expectation of fun here. Because someone somewhere had decided that it would be a good idea to have a New Year’s Eve party for Heaven and Hell. Together.It certainly wasn’t the first time Crowley had attended a party with Aziraphale. But tonight, with their bosses looking on, they were going to have to pretend that it was.Written for the To the World zineHappy New Year, everyone!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Dannye's Zine Fics [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067741
Comments: 46
Kudos: 156
Collections: To The World





	The Office Party From Hell (Literally)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the To The World zine mods for all their hard work!

London, 1920

Crowley liked parties, as a rule. It was easier to enjoy yourself (and tempt people) when everyone was drinking and ready to have fun. This particular party had one of those things— the drinking— but Crowley had no great expectation of fun here. Because someone somewhere had decided that it would be a good idea to have a New Year’s Eve party for Heaven and Hell. Together.

There was only one reason Crowley had braved this party at all, and that reason was standing where he always did at parties— in a corner by the buffet, holding a full plate. It certainly wasn’t the first time Crowley had attended a party with Aziraphale. But tonight, with their bosses looking on, they were going to have to pretend that it was.

The pretending had started already. Aziraphale had noted Crowley’s presence, but Crowley had resisted the urge to walk over and start commiserating with him. But then he saw Gabriel heading towards Aziraphale. Right, then. Time for a rescue.

When Crowley strolled up, Gabriel greeted him with, “Hey!” like he and Crowley were old friends, which they weren’t, and also like Gabriel had already had too much to drink, which he clearly had. “Crawley, right?” Gabriel asked. “Hey, I should introduce you— oh, but you and Aziraphale know each other, yeah? You must have met on Earth.”

Aziraphale nodded quickly. “Every once in a while.”

Crowley gave both angels a sneer. “We try to avoid it, as a rule.”

Gabriel was distracted then by another already tipsy angel coming over, and Crowley took up a spot right next to Aziraphale, who had flushed quite pink. “Problem?” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale gave him (another) once-over, and hissed, “You look ridiculous.”

Crowley was wearing tight black leather trousers and a red silk blouse with a deep V-neck. He grinned. “It’s a party, angel. These are clothes to get drunk in. So I look good dancing on the tables.” Aziraphale made one of those exasperated noises that Crowley was all too fond of. “Do you have any concept  _ at all  _ of entertainment?” Crowley asked.

“You know very well that I have been to the best parties—” 

“Oh no, you can’t count that time in Rome. Just because Nero showed up doesn’t mean it was a good—” 

They fell abruptly silent as Gabriel turned back to them.

“Well,” Crowley said, too loudly, “Hello, Aziraphale! Must have been at least a thousand years since we’ve had to, eh, thwart each other.”

Aziraphale tried to smile, but it came out looking a little pinched. He reached for a bit of food on his plate in what Crowley recognized as a nervous gesture. Crowley quickly turned away from Gabriel, as if he were looking at the buffet table, and brought his mouth near Aziraphale’s ear. “Don’t eat the stuffed mushrooms,” he said softly. “They have celery in them, and you know how you get.”

Aziraphale blinked, but managed to keep talking to Gabriel. “Oh, yes, Crow— ah, Crawley is terrible with the wiles— causing plagues and such things. Needs the occasional thwarting.” He put a napkin up to his mouth and whispered into it. “You tried the stuffed mushrooms? You don’t like them.”

“Looked like they had celery in them. And… you know how you get.”

Aziraphale did look at Crowley then, and his expression was soft. “Oh,” he said. 

Crowley gave him an exasperated look. “Yeah!” he exclaimed loudly, turning back around to gesture to Gabriel. “Plagues! Easiest way to start a plague is with poisoning, you know!” He made a point of looking at Gabriel’s wine glass.

It took a second, but then Gabriel fumbled his glass down on the buffet table and hurried away. Some of the tension in Aziraphale’s shoulders relaxed, and he took a long drink of his own wine. 

“What were we actually doing 1000 years ago?” Crowley asked.

“Em…” Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed a little. “Constantinople?”

“Oh, yes. You were copying texts, I was—”

“Causing trouble with the guilds.”

Crowley rocked on his heels. “Right, right. Do you remember that bastard with the perfumes? What was his name?” 

Aziraphale gave him a disapproving look. “The one whose business you ruined? I don’t recall.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Look, if anybody ever deserved to smell like a dead octopus instead of roses—” He broke off. “Oh, lord. Or actually— well, anyway, incoming.”

It was Hastur. In a green suit. Both Crowley and Aziraphale looked at him with appropriate horror. 

“Getting to know your counterpart?” Hastur sneered at Crowley.

Aziraphale puffed himself up. “I beg your pardon! Demons are not counterparts to angels. Angels are on a much higher plane.”

Crowley hid what was probably an indulgent smile in his glass of wine.

Hastur got an expression of disgust on his face. “You’re not on a higher plane! You’re on Earth. Or are you too stupid to notice?”

“Hey!” Crowley snapped, before he could stop himself. When Hastur and Aziraphale both looked at him, Crowley proudly came up with, “I’ll do the insulting of my counterpart, if you don’t mind.”

Hastur shrugged. “Sure. Go ahead.”

But Crowley had not actually thought this through, so now he said, “Um. It’s Aziraphale, right?” That blunder earned him a withering look from the angel. “Well,” Crowley said, “er—” 

Aziraphale was forced to step in, and Crowley knew he’d hear about that later. “Well, there was that time in New York, yes?”

They’d been in New York several times. “Oh, yes,” Crowley blustered. “Terrible… that…”

Aziraphale put on an offended expression. “You said I was  _ fussy.” _

Crowley groaned. “Oh, you would remember that.”

And of course, at that moment Beelzebub had to walk past, and Hastur called out, “Crowley is just saying how he handles this angel!”

When both Crowley and Aziraphale developed coughing fits at the same time, Hastur gave them a confused look. “Seems to be mostly name-calling.”

Beelzebub arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

Aziraphale managed to take in a breath. “Oh, well, Crowley’s quite the adversary, actually,” he said quickly. “Um, nearly discorporated me in Athens, didn’t you?”

That one Crowley remembered. “Uh— yeah,” he answered.

Aziraphale made a face that he probably thought looked properly frightened, but actually resembled the face of an adult trying to pretend they were afraid of a four-year-old trick-or-treater. “I had nightmares for years!” the angel exclaimed in an exaggerated voice.

Beelzebub, who was a hell of a lot scarier than a four-year-old, but apparently not any more intelligent, bought it. They clapped Crowley on the back and said, “Good to hear it!”

When Beelzebub and Hastur walked away, Crowley didn’t so much relax as deflate. “As I recall,” he said, “we were  _ both _ nearly discorporated in Athens. Together. Drunk and wading in the sea.”

Aziraphale still looked pleased with himself. “It’s the truth. Part of it.”

“Did you really have nightmares?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I don’t sleep!”

“Oh. right. Anyway, I don’t know what you were doing splashing around in the ocean, can’t you walk on water?”

“Of course I can!” Aziraphale looked away for a moment, another nervous tell. “But you can’t. You might have drowned.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, as he watched Aziraphale blush pink again.

“Not that I was much help, if I recall,” the angel said.

“We were very drunk.”

“Probably shouldn’t do that tonight, in the den of our enemies.” Aziraphale fumbled with his wine glass. “Yours and mine, I mean! Not ours!”

Crowley slowly put his glass down on the buffet table, feeling very cold suddenly. “Course,” he said. “Well, we’ve talked long enough. People are looking. I’ll just leave you to your side then.” He could see the regret on Aziraphale’s face, but the angel did not stop him.

When it was nearly midnight, Aziraphale found Crowley sitting on the roof of the building, looking toward the fireworks, which had started already. Aziraphale handed him a glass of champagne. “It’s a lovely tradition the humans have started, counting in the new year in this way,” he offered.

“Could do without Heaven and Hell getting in on it, though. You know, they say that whatever you’re doing at midnight on New Year’s Eve is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.”

Aziraphale looked curious. “Do they?”

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah. So you have to be doing whatever you like best.”

“Well, in that case,” Aziraphale said quietly, “I’m already doing it.”

Crowley didn’t even hesitate. In the darkness of the roof, the only light from stars and fireworks, he leaned over and pressed his mouth against Aziraphale’s.

Once the year had turned new, Crowley pulled back. When Aziraphale tried to say something, Crowley shook his head. “Some things we can’t talk about even when it is just the two of us.”

Aziraphale gave him a sad smile. “Happy New Year, my dear.”

“Happy new year, angel. I hope it brings you everything you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are so appreciated! And please feel free to check out my other works. I write Good Omens and original fiction.  
> Find me on my [Carrd](https://dannyechase.carrd.co//) and on my [Linktree](https://linktr.ee/DannyeChase)  
> 


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